Valentine Evenings
by Leannan Sith
Summary: Sarah and Jareth are both alone on Valentine's day, three years after they first met. What will they do?
1. Chapter 1

_This was going to be a one-shot...but it grew._

_Happy Valentine's Day!_

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* * *

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**Valentine Evenings**

There was a ball tonight. Jareth had made all the arrangements, and it was already clear that it would be a grand event. He had planned it because it was expected of him, as king, and was a task he accepted but didn't really mind. Unfortunately, decorum also demanded that he _attend_ the ball; that would be unpleasant.

He performed his duties flawlessly; the perfect courtier, he welcomed his guests, made sure that everything ran smoothly and even danced enough to be polite. It wouldn't really have been so terrible an evening, actually; he had always enjoyed music and dancing, it was a very nice night and he had many friends among the guests. None of his goblins had attended, because balls weren't the sort of thing that goblins enjoyed, but scores of faeries mingled about his marble ballroom. What really made the night unbearable was that most everyone else was dancing in the arms of their beloved or pursuing the object of their desire with hope in their eye. Such a saturation of love and adoration was almost more than he could take, knowing as he did that the one person he could ever love despised him and that once again he would spend Valentine's evening surrounded by joyful courtiers and simpering suitors, all alone in the midst of the throng.

Valentine's evening. Jareth grimaced as he thought that; why did everything always have to come back to _her_? It had been three years since he had seen her, three years since she had shattered all his hopes and dreams and left him broken-hearted on the craggy ruins of his torn-down castle, three years since he had resigned himself to the knowledge that although his love could never die, he was doomed to live alone for all eternity, the feeling forever unrequited. Three years of mournful heartache had passed, and still he thought of her constantly. He didn't watch her, although he easily could have, as he had before she'd called him, while he was first falling in love with her, and nor did he visit her in dreams, or assume his owl form to watch her; no, he had decided, against all his dreams and desires, to let her go.

That didn't mean he didn't miss her, though.

It was almost midnight. Exhausted from the emotional stress and the effort of feigning indifference, Jareth stood alone by the wall. Suddenly, he stiffened, looking up and around. For some reason, he felt as though he was being watched. He looked around suspiciously, but everyone around was busy staring into the eyes of their beloved. He trusted his instincts, though...

'What are you looking for?' a voice asked, and Jareth look back down to see a friend of his, another faerie king, approaching.

'What do you mean by that, Finvarra?' he asked. 'What am I looking for at this moment, or in general?' The strange sensation has passed, and although Jareth was still curious, he wasn't too worried.

'Well, I actually mean the former,' Finvarra told him, 'but why not go ahead and answer both?'

'I thought I sensed someone watching me, but it has passed,' Jareth answered. 'And in general, I suppose I am looking for...' What? Happiness? He had accepted long ago that that would never be possible for him. Love? He had found love, and it had all but destroyed him. 'I'm looking for distraction, I suppose,' he sighed.

'You're standing at the edge of the room, on your own, staring into space,' Finvarra told him softly. 'It doesn't seem like you want distraction; it seems like you want to wallow in your own misery. Come and dance, Reth. Divert yourself. Let your friends and guests entertain you.'

Jareth sighed, looking out at the dancing couples. He could join them, could dance and drink and laugh, as he had been doing all evening. But he knew that it wouldn't distract him—on the contrary, being at a Valentine's ball just made it that much worse. When he was alone he had better control of his mind, and could almost forget. No, being with happy people, feigning happiness himself, just made him feel more hollow inside.

'That will make it worse, Fin,' he sighed. 'You go and have fun; I'll be fine.' It was true; in a few days, once the pain of so much love surrounding him had faded, he would be fine.

'You can't honestly expect me to leave you alone,' his friend answered. 'Not when you're like this.'

Sighing, Jareth took a drink from a passing servant; maybe it would help warm him up.

He lifted it to his lips, but lowered it quickly a moment later and placed it, still full, on a nearby table.

Peach wine.

Why, _why_, did everything always remind him of her? It was a rhetorical question, though; he knew why he thought of her every day, even after all this time, knew why he could never feel desire for another woman, knew why every moment of every day he regretted the mistakes he'd made three years ago, in his desperate attempts to provide her with the adventure she'd yearned for, why he felt her absence like a blade of ice in his heart, all the time.

He loved her.

* * *

'So, Sarah,' Karen began casually as she sipped her after-dinner coffee. 'What are you up to tonight? Have any big plans?'

Sarah glanced up from her cake, chewing slowly to buy time. Her stepmother had hired a babysitter for the evening without even asking her eighteen-year-old stepdaughter if she was free. Karen was still, as always, adamant in her insistence that Sarah should date. Eventually Sarah had just stopped arguing, stopped explaining why she couldn't find the childish, immature, unwashed boys she knew attractive, and learned to just smile and nod.

'Yeah, I'm going out,' she finally replied. Karen obviously wanted more details, but was content to let it go for now, choosing to believe that her daughter was going out with a boy and not just to hang out with her friends. As it happened, Sarah was only leaving the house at all to get Karen off her back; she had few friends, and none of them were single, so she would be spending Valentine's evening sitting alone in a cafe with a book.

_Valentine's evening_. Sarah grimaced as she thought the phrase. Why did everything always have to come back to _him_? She got to her feet and began to clear the table. Tonight she would be bored and alone; to that she had already resigned herself. But she would absolutely _not_ spend the evening thinking about _him_.

Later that evening, Sarah sat alone in a cafe near her house, an open book on the table before her. She was the only person sitting alone. To her right, a young teenage couple laughed, holding hands and sipping hot chocolate. To her left, a girl her age and a slightly older guy with long blond hair were talking quietly; unfortunately, the tables were so close together that Sarah could hear almost everything they said.

'Do you ever feel like you might be dreaming?' the girl asked softly, and although Sarah didn't look up, she could hear the smile in the boy's voice when he replied.

'What do you mean?' he asked. 'You mean when everything is so perfect, so indescribable, that it can't possibly be real?'

Sarah's mind sprang instantly to her peach dream; she still wasn't sure about that. Had it been a dream, or had it been real? After breaking out of the bubble ballroom she had definitely fallen through the air and landed far from the enchanted forest where she'd been when she'd bitten the peach...but when she'd been there, in that dress, among those masked and frightening people, searching for something...or someone...when she'd danced in his—

_Don't think about him_. Wandering if the ball had been a dream? She didn't even know if the Labyrinth itself had been a dream, if _he_ had been a dream. That was the question that had consumed her mind for all these years, what had prevented her from moving on. With an almost physical effort, Sarah tore her mind from those memories and tried to return to her book.

'I'm sorry for getting all romantic on you,' the girl was saying, 'but I just can't believe that you actually exist.'

Sarah stared forcefully at the indistinguishable letters of her book, trying not to gag. But also a little bit jealous. Why was she alone tonight? She didn't think she was terribly ugly or annoying or anti-social. But for some reason, she wasn't at all popular with guys, and those that did show an interest...well, they never interested _her_. No one ever interested her. She did want a boyfriend, she just couldn't find anyone to _be_ that boyfriend.

Suddenly, Sarah got the distinct impression that someone was watching her. She glanced around, stiff, but everyone else in the cafe was busy staring into each other's eyes. The back of her neck prickled, though, and she was certain that someone watched her. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as she wondered, telling herself not to think _that_, not to think that _he_...but then the moment passed, and she told herself not to be paranoid, going back to her book.

'I like romance,' the boy at her left told his girlfriend. 'You know that, precious.'

Sarah's book snapped closed.

_Precious_...

She could handle the sappy, gooey romance. But she could _not_ handle that pet name.

Draining her tea cup, Sarah pushed herself to her feet and headed for the door. It was cold and snowing outside, and she irritably zipped coat her as she stalked along. The street was empty; everyone else was cuddled up inside with their dearly beloved.

'You do know that Valentine's day is a fake holiday invented by Hallmark to squeeze more money out of you, right?' she asked the windy night. 'Do you even know who St. Valentine _was_? Because he wasn't concerned with tacky cards or candy hearts.'

She stalked off down the street, and managed to get to the traffic light before she felt tears prickling behind her eyes. Why was it that she couldn't even sit in a cafe without being reminded constantly of _him_? Why did every guy she saw, even an innocent bystander out with his girlfriend, remind her of _him_? Why couldn't she get him out of her head? It had been three years, _three goddamn years_, since she had seen him. And for all knew, her adventure had been nothing but the result of an over-active imagination. It probably _had_ been nothing but a dream. There was no way to find out for sure, and that was the explanation that made the most sense.

_Just get over it already_.

Sarah began to walk again, eager to get out of the cold, but suddenly stopped short. _No way to find out for sure_. But what if there was? What if she could know, at last, the truth of the matter? Because there _was_ a way. There was one thing she could do.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah glanced around at the deserted street. There was no one around to witness what would, or would not, happen. No one to drag her off to an asylum if nothing happened, or to spread the word if something did. Still, Sarah hesitated; was she ready to see him again? And, if he wasn't real...was she ready to have her fantasies crushed?

_I'm not afraid of you_, she thought resolutely. She needed to know; if she knew for sure, one way or the other, she would be able to move on.

'I wish...' she stopped, breathing deeply, and then began again.

'I wish I could talk to the Goblin King right now.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

'I wish I could talk to the Goblin King right now.' For a long moment nothing happened, and a strange combination of disappointment and relief washed over Sarah. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't really expected anything to happen: even if he _did_ exist, why would he answer her wish? She sighed, and took a step forward, and then the world tilted sickeningly and Sarah's vision went black.

For an eternity that took no time at all she fell, her body still while her mind plummeted, and then she was overwhelmed by a whirlwind of sensation. The sounds, the smells, the very _feel_ of the air on her skin, tingling and alive with _something_, sliding over and through her, swirling around her, intoxicating her, tasting like the thrills of the future and smelling of the comforts of the past. She swooned beneath it, drunk on the milk of paradise, the weight of untold memories crashing down upon her even as the very essence of her surroundings her lifted her on silken thermals. She was back; with every fibre of her being she knew it, embraced it, breathed it in. She was back Underground.

Desperate to experience everything, yet wanting to savour every moment, Sarah was at a loss for what to do, and just remained still, eyes closed, drinking in the world around her. A distant part of her mind new that fear and panic would set in before long, but for now she just basked in the knowledge that it was real, that it was true, and that she was back.

Finally, though, she let her eyes flutter open, only to have her breath snatched away once more. So overwhelmed had she been by the world that she had all but forgotten the other, crucial detail that she should have remembered above all: _He_ was here, too.

He stood before her, his face a mask of shock, incomprehension, eternal sadness and something else, something she could not identify. He looked just that way she remembered him: the same long, messy blond hair fell around his shoulders, the same mismatched blue eyes shone from his handsome face…but for some reason, he wasn't as frightening as he had been three years ago.

'Sarah,' he finally said, his voice steady, but distant, and a tremor ran down her spine. She stared back at him, unsure what to do, what to say, what to feel…why hadn't she planned this out before making the wish? She had never considered the fact that instead of bringing him to her, the wish might bring _her_ to him. What had she been thinking? The Goblin King…he had been her greatest dream, her greatest desire, the embodiment of everything that she wanted and everything that she feared. Now, suddenly faced with him, he whose very existence she had doubted, when the last time she had seen him she had rejected him and torn herself violently from his world...

'I…' she replied at last, wanting to explain herself, to justify her sudden presence before him, but her voice died. Something passed over him when she spoke, though, and his eyes closed for just a moment, his face tight against some hidden emotion. Was it surprise, fury, confusion...? For a long moment they stared at one another.

'Jareth, what is going on? Who is this?' Sarah jumped at the sound of the high, feminine voice. Though she could not tear her gaze from him, she was suddenly aware of their surroundings: although they were relatively secluded, from the corner of her eye she could see a room of beautiful figures dancing. Approaching was the woman who had asked the question, and directly beside the Goblin King another man stood, but Sarah paid neither of them any attention. Silence reigned as the woman neared them and stopped curiously, and others began to take interest.

Jareth stood immobilized, shock still crashing over him in waves. What was she doing here? How could she suddenly appear, so unexpectedly, just as he mourned her loss? Was she in danger? Could she have come—she couldn't have come—it wasn't possible that she had come—to see him? Someone had questioned him, but the words didn't even process. Some part of him knew that he should attend to his guests, but that part was overwhelmed by the much larger part that just wanted to stand still and stare at Sarah, his beloved Sarah, his long-lost Sarah… He had to do something, to say something, either to her or to his guests, but couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think…

'Nothing important,' a voice finally said, clearly in response to the question the woman had asked, and he realized that it was Finvarra, coming to his rescue. 'Just…politics.' From the corner of his eye Jareth saw his friend wave his hand, and felt an avoidance charm descend over him and Sarah, excluding the rest of the ball and preventing anyone from approaching. Finvarra led the woman off, and he was left alone with Sarah, in silence.

'Sarah, what are you doing here?' he finally managed to ask.

'I'm sorry for interrupting your party,' she replied, her voice slightly unsteady, and he felt a wave of compassion towards her. She was apologizing? Apologizing for coming to him? Did she understand nothing, did she not know that he would have given anything, anything in the worlds, to see her, even from a distance, let alone speak with her, hear her beloved voice…

'Sarah,' he repeated, cherishing the feel of her name on his lips, 'what happened? Did you…wish yourself here?'

'Well,' she answered, not at ease, but not appearing too mortally terrified, either, not seeming to loathe him, as he had been certain she did. 'Not exactly. I…I did wish to be able to talk to you, but I don't think I really expected anything to happen. And if something did happen, I guess I thought that you would decide to answer my wish and come to talk to me, not that…' she trailed off, watching him carefully.

'You wished to be able to speak with me,' Jareth repeated, marvelling, the rest of her words irrelevant. He took a step towards her and lifted his hand, longing to touch her, yearning for some tangible proof that this wasn't a dream. He hesitated, his fingers trembling, but she did not pull back, and he was close enough to brush his hand, ever so lightly, across her face.

If Sarah had been overwhelmed by the sensations of being Underground, it was nothing to how she felt when the Goblin King touched her. She had seen him pause, had known that she could pull away, had seen no threat in his eye or gesture, and had chosen, for whatever reason, not to retreat. His fingers were light, just trailing softly across her cheek, but she felt her eyes close at the utter bliss that stole through her, and leaned involuntarily into his touch.

What was this? Why was she here? Why did she feel this way? Never had anything affected her in such a way. Words raced through her mind—addiction, compulsion, intoxication—but none were right, none described what she felt. She had no control over it, there was nothing she could do but try to reign in her spinning mind and wait, wait for the sensations to pass.

'Why?' he asked, his voice sliding across her body, through her mind, embedding itself in her heart.

'I needed to know,' she somehow replied, somehow managed to breathe, her eyes fluttering open. 'I needed to know the truth, to know if this world, if my past, if—if _you_ were real.' He nodded, slowly, and, overcome, she struggled for breath. Now she was afraid—not of him, per se, but of herself, of the reaction he caused in her. She had forgotten…forgotten how hard it had been to resist him, how much she had longed for his world and everything he had offered her…for him.

'It happened, Sarah,' he whispered, some unfathomable emotion thick beneath the cadence of his voice. 'It was real, it truly happened.'

'Yes,' she answered, just as quietly, her voice a tremulous murmur, 'yes, I see that now.' They stood like that, so close and yet so far apart, for a long moment, before he drew a deep and shuddering breath and withdrew his hand, turning partially away from her. When he turned back there was a smile on his face, but she knew that it was a mask.

'You are welcome here, of course,' he told her, his voice far smoother, and Sarah could tell that he was recovering from the shock of her sudden appearance, regaining his composure; if only she could regain hers. 'As you can see, you arrived in the middle of a ball. Feel free to stay, should you so desire, but if you would rather go home immediately that will not be a problem.'

That was it? He was going to send her straight home, not enchant her with crystals or demand her fear and obedience? Relief washed over her, and tension that she hadn't known she'd been holding was released. Along with that, though, came a strange feeling of…could it be disappointment?

'Of course,' the Goblin King added before she could speak, some of the emotion leaking back into his voice, 'I remember… I remember how you used to love fantasy, to love the story I left you, to long to come to this world. Well… should you care to come and visit, you would, as I said, be welcome; I seem to recall that you made some friends on your last…sojourn…here, and should you desire to see them again…'

His voice, incredibly, seemed to hold a desperate, almost pleading note. What did that mean? Was he extending the invitation for the sake of courtesy, but begging her not to return? Or…could it be…was he begging her _to _come back? But that was ridiculous.

'I…thank you,' she said simply, unsure how to respond. He wasn't as terrifying as he had been. Overwhelming, certainly, but she didn't get the impression that he would hurt her, or anyone else. Had he so changed over the last three years? Of perhaps she had been the one to change; perhaps he had been the same, but she hadn't been seeing him clearly. 'I'm really very sorry for this.' The lie tasted like sulphur on her lips, but she said it anyway, even though she knew that she did not regret it. 'I won't impose myself upon you any longer.'

He nodded slowly, very slowly, and just when she thought he wouldn't respond he twisted his fingers, and a crystal appeared.

'When this shatters, it will take you back to where you made the wish,' he told her, arrogance and indifference dominating his voice, although his eyes told a different story.

'Thanks,' Sarah repeated, wondering what her face showed of her own twisted and labyrinthine emotions. 'And…' there was something else, something she had to say, if she was ever going to respond to his invitation, ever going to see him again; for she found, incomprehensibly, that she wanted to. 'And I'm sorry for being such a, well, such a _brat_ last time,' she told him quickly, lowering her eyes to the floor.

There. She _was_ sorry, and now perhaps her former immaturity could be swept aside. When she looked back up, though, he was smiling, a real smile, this time, if a sad and nostalgic one.

'You have nothing to be sorry for, Sarah,' he told her, his voice soft and tender, and she remembered the dreams she'd had, before she had wished Toby away, wherein he would come and speak to her, show her his marvellous realm, but from which she always awoke in bed and always passed off as mere figments of her imagination, reactions to the story she had loved so much. But he had said that he'd left her the book…what did it mean? Had those dreams, those dreams in which he'd been so kind and compassionate and understanding, so caring, been real?

Impossible.

And yet…

Gently, the Goblin King took her hand in his and lifted it, brushing his lips across her fingers, holding her palm in his for a long moment before, with a final smile, shattering the crystal.

* * *

"_Drunk on the milk of paradise" is a reference to Coleridge's _Kubla Khan_, which is an amazing poem. _


	3. Chapter 3

_A few of the lines in this chapter are taken from Keats' _Ode to a Nightingale, _one of my favourite poems. _

**Chapter 3**

'So, did you have a good time last night?'

'Sure.'

'What'd you do?'

'Hang out.'

'Who were you with?'

Finally, Sarah looked up from her book, fixing her stepmother with her glare. 'Karen, I don't really want to talk about this.'

'Why? Did something happen?' Karen had been standing in the doorway, but now she came into the living room and sat down across from her stepdaughter.

'No, nothing,' Sarah replied, lifting her book to hide her face.

'Sarah, as your mother I really need to know who you were with.'

_You're not my mother_, Sarah wanted to say, but she just clenched her fingers around the book and remained silent.

'You can't trust all men, Sarah. I really need to know. Now tell me.'

'You just want gossip!' Sarah cried, throwing down her book. 'It's my business, and I don't want to talk to you about it.'

'Fine, don't talk. But invite him for dinner next weekend.'

'Forget about it!' She began to stalk angrily out of the room, but Karen's words halted her.

'I'm afraid I'm going to have to forbid you to go out until you tell me his name.'

_That's not fair!_ Sarah bit back the words before they could escape.

She didn't hate Karen, not the way she used to, but her stepmother's insincerity, selfishness and general pettiness all but drove her insane. She knew that she could just say that she had been with her friends, or even that she had been alone, but for some reason that would feel like losing.

And Sarah had always hated losing.

'What's his name, Sarah?'

'His name,' she hissed, spinning around to face Karen, 'is Jareth.' With that, she turned again and stalked up to her room.

Why had she said that?

Sarah on her bed, her arms wrapped around Sir Gawain, staring at her ceiling. Why would she imply that _he_ was her boyfriend? It hadn't been a conscious decision, it had just come out.

Jareth.

She had never said his name before.

And now… Now what? Now she knew that he was real, that what had happened three years ago had been real. The love and infatuation with fantasy that she had tried to suppress came surging back with that knowledge, and just as she had longed to go Underground as a fifteen-year-old, so did she now.

She wanted to go. With all of her heart, she longed to use whatever powers she had and leave this binding, twisted world behind. Not forever, although once upon a time that thought may have appealed to her. To have a sanctuary, though, a place she could go where everything was perfect, would be bliss.

And so, for that reason, she would call him. Not immediately—although he didn't frighten her, she didn't want him to know how desperate she was to return. She refused to give him any power over her.

In a few days, though, when she could bear it no longer, she would speak, she would wish, she would call for him to come and take her away.

* * *

Time.

Time, time, time, time, time, time, time, how much would pass before she called? _Would_ she even call? And what would she say if she did? What would he say? Would she ask to come Underground? Would she fear him, or stay always on her guard around him, never opening up? If she did come to his realm, would she tell him never to talk with her, and just spend time with her old friends? Even if she didn't fear him, would she hate him? She hadn't seemed to, but she had been in shock. Would she give him a chance to explain? Would she listen? Did she even want to know? She had said she just wanted to know if the world was real; not that she wanted to come back. She probably wouldn't. Why should she? The place held nothing but bad memories for her. He had been so _stupid_ three years ago. Why had he done that? He couldn't change it now, though. Unless he reordered time, but it was such a dangerous thing to do. However, he could always make time go faster now, so that he would find out what she would do, if she would do anything, of course she would do _something_, but what, that was the question, and he really needed to find out because this waiting would drive every last bit of sanity from his mind and—

'Jareth, _stop_ pacing,' someone said, and Jareth jerked, coming to a stop, trying to gather his thoughts. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be entertaining his guests. And when had he started pacing? He couldn't remember.

Most of the fae who had attended the ball had gone home, but a few of his closer friends had stayed, assuming an invitation even though Jareth was in no state to act the host. He put his hands on his hips and glared at Finvarra, the one who had spoken.

'Has it escaped your notice that my True Love re-entered my life just a few days ago?' he hissed, too quietly for most of the other guests to hear. It had been almost a week; surely if she was going to call she'd have called by now.

'And when she calls you again you do not want to appear to her as a love-sick, floundering, confused spurned lover, do you?' said Midir, another friend of Jareth's who had obviously been listening to the conversation. Jareth didn't answer, though; he didn't know how he wanted to appear to her. Should he pretend not to care? Or just try to be her friend? Or try to seduce her? Or openly court her? And how would she treat him? Would she fear him, or stay always on her guard around him, never opening up? If she did come to his realm, would she tell him never to talk with her, and just spend time with her old friends? Even if she didn't fear him, would she hate him? She hadn't seemed to, but—

Hadn't he already followed this exact same train of thought just moments ago? Hadn't he followed it half a million times since she had appeared?

She was driving him insane.

Insanity had never been so sweet, nor sanity so unappealing.

'Jareth!' someone said sharply, and he snapped back to the moment.

'Sorry,' he said, trying to figure out who had spoken. 'My thoughts wondered.'

In perfect unison, his friends sighed in exasperation.

'Do you know what her favourite flower is?' Midir asked.

'Of course I do; the iris.' At least, that had been her favourite flower three years ago. He supposed that it might have changed, and suddenly felt a terrible sadness for all the things of her life that he had missed. Three long years wasted...

'So when she calls you, appear before her with a shower of iris petals, pull her into your arms, bring her Underground and reorder time so that it is night, with the moon and the stars above you, and tell her you love her. She will be so star-struck that she will be unable to resist you,' Finvarra told him, and Jareth shook his head.

'I want her to actually love me, not just get drunk on romance for one evening.' He sighed and strode to the window, looking out as though he would see her walking up the path. 'I wish...' he said softly, but unlike her, he didn't have the power to wish.

With a sigh, Jareth thought of all the mistakes he had made last time. He had tried to manipulate her emotions, instead of just being honest, had tried to be both a teacher and a lover, tried to change her. That could never do. He should have just accepted her as she was, let her grow up on her own, without his help; he could easily have given her the adventure of a lifetime without casting himself as the villain.

No, this time, he would just be honest with her, and he would respect her. That meant not hiding the way he felt, but not forcefully trying to seduce or manipulate her into giving into his affections. He would just have to wait, and trust that with time she would come to see that they were meant to be together.

With this decision, a strange peace settled over him, and he relaxed slightly, turning from the window to see his friends watching him with worry etched across their faces.

'Everything will be fine,' he told them, actually smiling, and then, before any of them could say another word, he felt that unfathomable tug at his essence, his magic, his core—his soul. She was calling him.

* * *

She was waiting outside, in the park where she used to go to play and rehearse. He cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold and the sun shone off her dark hair like a halo. Jareth was so overwhelmed by her beauty that for a moment he just stood before her, in awe.

'Sarah,' he finally said, carefully keeping his voice steady. 'You called?'

'I did,' she answered, no tremor in her voice, although her eyes were wide with some unidentifiable emotion.

'And...how may I be of service?' She began to speak, and then hesitated, glancing shyly away for a moment in a gesture so impossibly endearing that for a moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't think of anything other than the look in her eyes, the fall of her hair across her shoulder, the shadows in the contours of her beloved face...

'I'm sorry to bother you,' she said, and he almost laughed, thinking of how he had paced, starving and near exhausted, ever since she had first appeared, waiting, hoping against hope that she would call.

'It is not a problem. Have you thought about my offer to bring you to visit the Underground?'

'Yes,' Sarah replied, and Jareth's shoulders slumped with something akin to relief. She had so much power over him... 'Yes, I actually wanted to ask you if the offer stands.'

'Of course.' How could she doubt it?

'Well...I mean, I don't want to inconvenience you, but whenever it's possible, could I come and visit, then?'

'It is no inconvenience,' he assured her. 'Would you like to come right now?'

'Oh, well, I don't want to impose, this is kind of short notice. I'm sure you're busy...'

'Sarah,' he said, and paused a moment to savour the feel of her name on his tongue. 'Sarah, you did not answer my question. Would you like to come right now?'

For a long moment she stared at him, assessing the offer, and then finally said, 'Yes.'

Careful to conceal the joy that threatened to tear his heart apart, Jareth offered her a hand, which she took, hesitantly. She really wasn't afraid of him anymore. That was a start.

'I am afraid that those three friends you made do not live in my Kingdom anymore,' he told her, clasping his gloved fingers around her small hand. 'They left some years ago. I am sure that they would come if you sent a summons, but they would not arrive by today.'

'Oh,' she said, sounding somewhat disappointed, and his heart sank.

'Would you rather not come?' he asked anxiously, squeezing her fingers. She thought for a moment, but then smiled, and he felt her grip tighten slightly, too.

'No, I still want to come, if it's all right.'

He wanted very much to just keep standing there, holding her hand and sharing her smile, but knew that he couldn't, so he pulled her closer—to lessen the shock of travelling between worlds, he told himself—and gently released his magic. Within a moment, they were Underground.

Sarah sighed, all tension flowing from her body. There was something about this world that revitalized her, energized her, made her feel strong, as though she could handle anything. If the Labyrinth had been on Earth, she would have curled up on the ground to sulk after fifteen minutes; she would never have been able to manage thirteen hours. For a long moment she stood still, letting the essence of the world soak into her, wondering what had possessed her to wait three years before returning, before giving it a second chance. How many times had she wondered if it had been real? Why hadn't she just checked then, instead of waiting for so long? Of course she knew the answer to that question; she had been afraid of Jareth. But really, he wasn't very frightening. She supposed she saw that he could be, if he wanted to, but he was being very nice.

Suddenly Sarah realized that although they had arrived in Faerie over a minute ago, she was still holding his hand. Quickly she opened her eyes and stepped away, and saw him smiling slightly. Not that she minded holding his hand—it had been kind of nice, actually—but she wasn't quite sure how she was supposed to act around him.

_Just keep one thing straight, Sarah_, she told herself sternly. _Do NOT fall in love with him. _

A moment later she felt foolish for issuing the command; after all, there was no chance of THAT happening.

'Thank you, your majesty,' she said, looking up at him, and a slow smile formed on his face, the sort of smile that stopped breath and broke hearts, the sort of smile that spread warmth and joy, the sort of smile that didn't exist in real life.

'It was my pleasure.' His voice was soft, intimate, seeming to wind its way around her lungs and heart.

_Okay, get a grip, girl. Just because you've been hopelessly deprived of romance and hopelessly disappointed by your own species doesn't mean you can fall head-over-heels for the first inhuman guy you meet._

Nevermind for now the fact that she had unconsciously been comparing every guy she met to Jareth.

'This is beautiful,' she said, looking around as an excuse to stop staring at him. They were outside, as they had been Aboveground, in a beautiful garden. There was snow on the ground, but somehow flowers still bloomed in glorious bursts of colour. Everything seemed brighter, more healthy, more alive, than it had in the human world.

'Isn't it?' Jareth replied, stepping up behind her. 'Wait until you see the rest of this world, Sarah. This is just the beginning, just a patch of cultivated flowers. Faerie has so much more to offer.'

'Are we in the Labyrinth?' she asked, turning back to him, surprised at how relaxed she felt around him; even if she didn't fear him, she hadn't expected to feel so at ease.

'No,' he replied, 'we are in the royal gardens outside my castle. I was not sure if you would like to go back into the Labyrinth...in case it brought back too many dark memories.'

'Oh no, I'd really like to see it again,' she assured him. 'Maybe I don't want to go back into the Escher room..._that_ was a pretty traumatizing experience.'

That moment in the Escher room had been what had haunted her most these last three years. Not desperately running up and down the stairs, feeling him stalking her; not seeing Toby perched on the edge of the wall, seemingly about to fall; not the terrifying moment of jumping from the top of the stairs; no, what had plagued her, tormented her, had been the awful choice she'd had to make between her brother and her dreams, and the look on Jareth's face when she head rejected him.

'Yes,' he agreed, softly, almost sadly, 'that was certainly traumatizing. Come though, I will show you around the rest of the castle, and the grounds.'

'That's okay, I can look around on my own,' Sarah quickly interjected. She already felt bad enough about suddenly reappearing after three years and demanding a sanctuary; she certainly wasn't going to accept the king himself as a guide.

'Don't be silly; I am sure that you will have plenty of fun exploring on your own, but it would take you hours to find your way through the gardens on your own, and you should get a basic understanding of the landscape first. Besides,' he added, that slow smile returning, 'I know all of the secret and hidden marvels of this place, which you would not be able to find if you spent a hundred years wandering.'

'Thanks,' Sarah replied, automatically returning his smile, 'but I can't expect you to drop everything to give me a tour. Surely you have things you'd rather be doing than showing me around...'

'I assure you, Sarah,' he told her, her name slipping past his lips like a summer breeze, like a long-lost memory, like a distant dream, 'nothing would give me more pleasure.' Sarah felt her mouth going dry and her nails digging into the palms of her hand. Wordlessly, she let him wrap his arm through hers and lead her along the path.

What exactly was that supposed to mean? _Nothing would give him more pleasure_...was that just him being polite? Or...

Sarah shook her head slightly, banishing those thoughts. _Don't be stupid. He's the perfect diplomat; don't mistake that for actual affection._

For the most part they walked in comfortable silence, except for Sarah's occasional gasps of wonder, which she tried very hard to suppress. They passed a brook burbling silver in the sunlight, multicoloured fish flitting beneath the surface despite the time of year, weeping willows and ancient oaks with dryads sitting amid their branches, flocks of little fairies and so much more. While the sights were amazing, though, it was the feel of the world that enchanted Sarah.

'We could wonder here for decades or longer,' Jareth finally said. 'Shall we go inside?'

'Sure,' Sarah answered, although she didn't think that she'd mind wondering the winding mossy ways with him for years on end. 'Your majesty,' she said suddenly, but he held up a hand to stop her.

'Jareth,' he said. 'Call me Jareth.'

'Jareth,' she consented, smiling as she said the name, 'I was just wondering...' then she stopped, suddenly coming back to her senses. She must have been high on magic to even consider asking him that.

'Yes?'

'I was just wondering...um...wondering...how far it is to the castle?'

'Not far; I can use magic to get us there faster if you're tired,' he replied, and then looked over at her, still smiling. 'Now, what were you actually going to ask?'

'Never mind,' she told him. He held her gaze for a moment, his smile disappearing, and then he turned and looked ahead again, avoiding her eye. Sarah felt ridiculously guilty for upsetting him. 'Jareth...'

'You do not trust me,' he said; his voice wasn't accusing, but it was very sad.

'No, it's not that,' she said. 'I was just going to ask a really stupid question.'

'Ask anyway,' he said, turning back to her, his eyes beseeching.

_Jeez_, Sarah thought, _how does he do that_? If she could do a look like that her parents would never be able to deny her anything. She sighed.

'I realize how presumptuous this will sound,' she said, 'but I was just wondering if...well, if you'd remembered me at all these last three years?' She looked at the ground as she spoke. There was silence for a moment.

'You're right,' Jareth finally replied. 'That was a stupid question. Didn't you listen to a word I said three years ago?' She could hear in his voice that he was smiling again, so she risked looking up.

'Mostly I listened to the threats and mockery,' she admitted. 'Sorry for asking, I just...well, obviously, since I needed to check if you were real, I couldn't get what happened out of my head, and I just wanted to know if...' she trailed off, and he came to a stop, turning and stepping in front of her to block her path.

'My dearest Sarah,' he told her softly, his fingers softly brushing her cheek. 'I thought of nothing else.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

'I have a few guess staying, at the moment,' Jareth was saying. 'I would introduce you, but they can be a little bit difficult to handle. Come this way, I will show you the library; I seem to recall that you like books.'

Sarah made a vague sound that was unintelligible even to her. She still couldn't get her mind around what he had said in the garden.

What was it supposed to mean? What did he want her to understand?

The room he led her to was, indeed, spectacular. Long shelves towered around them, filled with thousands of books bound in every colour she could imagine. In glass cases, more books were laid open to beautiful illuminations, and from the intricate drawings she could tell that they contained wonderful stories.

'If you would like to come here to read, you would always be welcome,' he assured her.

'That would be wonderful,' she breathed, forgetting her worried confusion in the face of such a vast collection of literature, of escape. 'Though I wouldn't know where to begin. It would take an eternity to read them all.'

'Yes, Precious,' Jareth agreed softly, 'that is exactly what it would take. For now, though, I think that you might enjoy this...' As he spoke, he reached to a high shelf and pulled down a book bound in black leather, with silver lettering on the cover.

'_Iris_,' she said, reading the title aloud to distract herself from the pet name he had just used, and smiled. 'What's it about?'

'It is quite complicated,' he replied, 'but in short, it is about a human girl who has to save Faerie. You can bring it Aboveground with you, if you like.'

'Thanks,' Sarah answered, slipping it into her shoulder bag and reminding herself, for the millionth time, not to get to comfortable, not to let herself relax too much. It was just so hard _not_ to relax here, though. She remembered the last time she'd been here, how swift she had been to trust everyone she met. She felt safe here.

Jareth took her arm again and led her from the enormous library, through a few more winding halls and finally to a set of colossal double doors.

'What's through here?'

'My throne room,' he told her, flicking his hands towards them, and they opened at the gesture. Sarah almost gasped at the room they revealed.

It was a long, spacious hall, with blue and silver hangings on the walls and golden light streaming through the tall windows. At the far end, a great black throne stood regally on a dais. She had never seen a place more magnificent.

'This is beautiful,' she said, and almost laughed at the complete inadequacy of the word. 'This isn't the throne room I saw last time, though...'

This time Jareth was the one who laughed. 'You thought that was my throne room? No, no, of course not. That was a nursery for the children of the court.'

'Oh.' Sarah took a moment to wrap her mind around that as they walked through the hall, towards the throne. 'Apparently...things were quite different than I understood them to be.' She had meant it as a sort of a joke, but he didn't laugh or even smile.

'Yes, Sarah,' he said, 'they were very different. They still are.' He stepped up onto the dais and pulled aside the tapestry that hung behind it, revealing a hidden door. 'I want to show you something.'

'Cool, a secret door,' she answered, following him up onto the dais, her mind still working out what he had just said. Things were still different? How were they? She had to figure it out, had to figure out who she was to him, who he was to her, and what had really happened three years ago.

'Yes, a secret door. Do not expect anything spectacular, though,' he warned. 'It does not lead to the treasury, or my dragon's lair.'

'You have a dragon?'

'I might,' he said, turning back to her with a slight smile, 'but if I do, I will not show it to you today.' He opened the door and held it for her to enter.

And it was true, the room was a little bit of a disappointment. Even with his warning, she had been expecting something a little bit more exciting; after all, it was a secret door...shouldn't there be something worth hiding behind it? Instead, all it his was a small, simple room. It was done in shades of blue and green, with a small sofa, an armchair and a window seat. There was a desk, a bookshelf and a fireplace, and it was lit by a chandelier. There was art on the walls and silver ornaments, and everything was of the finest quality, but it was certainly the least spectacular of everything she'd seen so far.

'What is this place?'

'This is my sanctuary,' Jareth said, stepping up beside her. 'Very few people know about it...a few of my closest friends and most trusted servants, but no one else. I come here when I need to get away, need to make sure that no one will find me.'

And suddenly it didn't seem so disappointing anymore. Sarah's throat went dry as she realized that he had invited her into his private retreat, the only place that was truly his.

'You didn't have to show me,' she said quietly, and he turned to her, his smile turned sad.

'I know,' he told her, 'but I wanted you to know. Just in case...in case you ever need me, for anything. I wanted you to be able to find me.'

'Jareth.' She turned to face him, unsure what to say or what to do. His words and actions were overwhelming her, even more so than the world itself. 'Jareth, you don't have to do all of this for me. Whatever...whatever happened between us, I don't want you to feel as if you have to do anything for me, or be anything to me. It's not your responsibility to be my friend, or take care of me.'

'I know, Precious,' Jareth sighed, gazing down at her. 'But no matter how clear I try to make it, you never see. I _want_ to be something to you.'

Sarah tried to speak, but couldn't. Her throat was dry, her lungs incapable of drawing breath. For along moment they looked at one another, in utter silence.

_He wants to be my friend_, Sarah told herself firmly. _And there's nothing wrong with that. I've already decided that he isn't the scary, domineering villain I thought he was; we can be...friends..._

'At any rate,' Jareth said, finally stepping away and breaking her gaze, 'should you ever need to find me, it could be that I have come here. Come now, I have more to show you.'

'Thanks for showing me,' she mumbled, tripping as she turned to follow him. He stepped through the door first, and pulled the tapestry aside to let her pass. 'Thanks,' she said again, turning back to him, slowly regaining her composure, and suddenly she noticed that the tapestry hid another door, too. 'Jareth, what's back there?' She still hesitated a moment before saying his name, but it was slowly becoming more natural

'Nothing,' he replied, dropping the curtain, his face shutting down. Sarah jerked in surprise; he had been so open so far.

'I suppose that's where you keep the dragon?' she said, trying to imbue a teasing note into her voice. He didn't have to show her if he didn't want to...but she did wish he would.

He sighed, though, and smiled again. 'I suppose I should show you,' he said. 'I promised myself that I would be honest with you...completely honest.' Hesitantly, Jareth lifted the tapestry again and opened the second door, gesturing for her to enter.

This time, Sarah gasped upon seeing the room. It was enormous and exquisitely beautiful, made entirely of spun glass. The light was soft and gentle, shimmering down from the chandeliers high above.

Her mouth fell agape, though, at the sight of the cracks and missing pieces in the walls and the shattered glass that covered the floor. She felt Jareth step into the room, close behind her, and turned swiftly to face him.

'What happened here?' she asked with genuine concern. This place was obviously important to him, if he kept it hidden for no one to see, but something terrible had happened. Her heart ached as she thought how spectacular room must have been before it had been destroyed.

Jareth's eyes held no blame, no anger. He merely smiled, and gently passed his hand through the air between them. She felt the ripple of magic, and watched in wonder as his clothes seemed to melt...melt into new ones. Familiar ones. Dark, glimmering blue, the colour of the night sky...the very clothes he had worn all those years ago in this same room, which with a gripping tear of nostalgia she suddenly recognised as the ballroom from her peach dream. She looked down and saw that her clothes were changing, too, and within a moment she was gazing down at the same ball gown she'd worn that night.

She turned, allowing her eyes to sweep over the broken room in awe and confusion. Jareth stepped up behind her, one hand on her shoulder. In the other he held a crystal. Sarah gazed into it, all too aware of his close proximity behind her. They were closer, now, than they had been since her peach dream, when she had danced in his arms...

'You happened, Sarah,' he answered, softly, gently. Sarah shook her head, tears prickling her eyes as she looked around at the beautiful, broken room, heavy with the knowledge that she was the one who had destroyed something so magnificent, so painstakingly woven, so important to him.

'I...I didn't mean to...' she shook her head again, unable to express her regret. 'Why didn't you have it fixed?' she asked at last. Surely it wasn't impossible to fix it...

'I did not want it fixed.'

'Why not?'

Jareth leaned into her, letting his cheek caress by her dark tresses. 'Because it was something to remember you by.'

The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over at his gentle, honest, painful words. She could hear the hurt in his voice, could tell how much it hurt him to voice them aloud, and how much more it had hurt to keep them in for so many years.

'Jareth...' she said, leaning against him, closing her eyes to block out the scene of her guilt. 'Jareth, before I wished Toby away, I used to have these dreams. Dreams about you. Ever since I was a little girl. You were always so kind...when I was younger you treated me like a cherished daughter or younger sister, and as I grew older you treated me like a friend. You always knew what I wanted, what I needed. When I was upset, all I had to do was go to sleep and you would be there for me

'I thought...I thought that I was imagining you, because of that old book I loved so much. But...were they real?'

Gently, he pulled her closer, pressing his face to her hair. 'Yes, Sarah, they were real. I left the book for you to find, Precious...you were such a sad child, but still so full of life. I just wanted to do whatever I had to do, to make you happy, whether that meant comforting you, or offering advice, or granting you the power to wish...or giving you the adventure that you so longed for. I just wanted you to be happy. From the first time I saw you, I promised myself that I would always be there for you. And I will, my dearest Sarah...no matter what, as long as you should need me, or want me, I'll be there for you.'

Sarah didn't respond; she couldn't. She just stood there, leaning into his embrace, amid the flood of memory and emotion and the broken shards of the shattered ballroom.

* * *

_The scene in the ballroom is partly written by _Android-A007_, from deviantART, and is based on her beautiful drawing _Labyrinth-Broken Ballroom_. Go check out her account!_

_Thanks for reading :)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was snowing.

Sarah pulled her scarf up over her face and bowed her head against the wind, hurrying down the street. It was only four o'clock, and it was already getting dark. She sighed. Everything was dark and bleak and grey. It always had been, in the city in February, but somehow after seeing Faerie it all seemed even more drab and depressing.

She turned a corner, and stopped suddenly. The street and building and sky and even the air itself was still grey and dreary, but something had changed—nothing that any of her five senses could identify, but some inherent _feeling_ which she recognised immediately: magic.

'Sarah,' a voice said, a voice that she knew as well as she knew her father's, her brother's, her best friend's, and she turned, a smile already on her face.

'Jareth,' she said.

She hadn't seen him since he had given her the tour of his grounds and castle. After what he had said in the shattered ballroom she had felt too overwhelmed to stay and feign indifference, so she had begged exhaustion and asked him to send her home. Since then, she had come within a breath of summoning him time and time again, but had always hesitated.

'I trust you are well?'

'Yes, I'm...I'm fine. And you?'

'I am well, thank you, and I have news for you. You expressed a desire to see your old friends again, did you not? Sir Didymus, Ambrocious, Ludo and...what was the dwarf's name again? Hodgepodge?'

'_Hoggle_,' Sarah corrected with an indignant smile. 'And yes, I would love to see them again.'

'After your last visit I send them a message. They arrived at the Goblin City today. If you'd like to come and see them, you are of course welcome.'

'Yes!' Sarah cried happily. 'Yes, if it's okay with you, I'd like to come.'

'Very well. Would you like to come now?'

'Yes, please. Wait, actually, no... My dad and Karen will worry; I'm supposed to get home. I don't want to trouble you, though. Is there some way I can get Underground without having to drag you up to the human world?'

'Sarah, no time spent in your company is a trouble to me,' he told her with a smile. 'Call me when you're ready, and I shall return for you.'

'Thanks,' she smiled, and her breath caught as he lifted her hand to brush it with his lips. After just the barest touch, he disappeared.

When he was gone, Sarah continued on her way home, her heart fluttering in her chest. Was something _happening_ with her and Jareth?

No, that was ridiculous. Shaking her head, she pulled out her key and gratefully stepped into the warmth. Jareth had nostalgic feelings for her, and she was grateful to him, but while they could be friends, there certainly wasn't anything more than that going on.

_He probably kisses everyone's hand_, she told herself firmly as she hung up her coat.

'Sarah, you're late,' Karen snapped.

'Sorry,' she answered, trying not to sound too sarcastic. The rest of the family was already seated around the table, and she hurried join them, ignoring the tingling in her hand. 'Hey Toby, what'd you do today?'

'We did finga-painting!' the four-year-old exclaimed happily, holding up his hands to show her the flecks of paint around his nails that his mother hadn't been able to wash out.

'Cool,' Sarah replied. 'When do I get to see your picture?' Toby was attending pre-school, and Sarah was always very proud of his artwork.

'After they dry we can bring'em home,' he informed her.

'Don't talk with your mouth full,' Karen reprimanded, and Sarah rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

'I'm going out tonight, I don't know when I'll be home,' she told her dad later, when Karen was busy with Toby, hoping that she wouldn't hear.

'Where are you going?' Robert asked, looking up from his coffee.

'Just to hang out with some friends.'

'Is Jareth one of them?' Karen asked from across the room, and Sarah ground her teeth.

'Yes,' she said unhappily. 'Anyway, I'll see you later!' She left the room, grabbed her coat and was out the door before they could protest. Maybe she'd have to pay for this rudeness later—but for now, there were four people whom she hadn't seen in years waiting for her, and that was just more important.

It only took her a few minutes to get to the park; for some reason, that seemed the appropriate place to go to call Jareth.

'I wish the Goblin King would come to see me right now,' she said, slightly breathlessly, when she arrived. For a moment nothing happened, and Sarah tried to compose herself, but then with a shimmer of sparkles that melted as they fell, Jareth appeared.

'Sarah,' he said in greeting, offering her a soft smile. 'Are you ready to go?' he asked, offering her his gloved hand, and she stepped forward to take it. He drew her close to him, and she closed her eyes as he pulled her through the fabric of the worlds, relaxing as the feel of the magic in the very air washed over her.

'Thanks,' she said, stepping back after a moment and rubbing her fingers together surreptitiously.

'Your friends are waiting in a private parlour,' Jareth told her, his eyes flicking down to her hand and then back up to her eyes. He smiled, and she forced herself to still her fingers. 'Come, I will show you.'

They were standing in the throne room, and Sarah glanced towards the hidden doors for a brief moment before turning to follow him out. They walked for only a few moments before arriving at a tall wooden door.

'Your friends wait within,' Jareth told her. 'Should you need anything, do not hesitate to call.'

'Thanks, Jareth,' she repeated, and put her hand to the door...but then stopped. 'Jareth,' she repeated, suddenly nervous, 'did they seem angry with me?'

'No,' he answered, surprised. 'Why would they be?'

'I haven't seen them since that night, the night after...you know. I tried to speak to them through the mirror, but I couldn't. And then I stopped trying. They helped me so much, and...'

'I am sure you have no need to worry,' Jareth told her. 'They seemed only eager to see you again. They couldn't come to your mirror because magic could not touch you anymore, Sarah, and they understand that. Go on, they are waiting.' He reached past her and slowly opened the door, and Sarah took a deep breath and stepped through.

Jareth closed the door behind Sarah and stood for a moment in the hall, smiling to himself. He still found it hard to believe that Sarah, his long-lost, beloved Sarah, was back in his realm. Back, for no reason other than that she wanted to be. Such a strange, amazing, unbelievable concept. A month ago he never would have believed it possible, yet now...

Still smiling, Jareth sang softly to himself as he strode down the hall. He was tempted to watch her reunion with her friends, but knew the witnessing it would not be worth the feelings of guilt that would haunt him; he refused to be dishonest with her or impose on her privacy.

'So who is she?' a high voice asked suddenly, and Jareth looked up in surprise: he had been so lost in his own world that he hadn't noticed a woman walking towards him down the hall.

'My Lady Cliodna,' he said, taking her hand and bowing over it. 'Forgive me, I didn't see you.' Cliodna, he remembered suddenly, had seen Sarah at the ball, when she had first appeared. He wished with sudden irritation that the queen had left along with most of the other guests, instead of lingering.

'No offence taken—you seemed preoccupied,' Cliodna answered. 'That was the girl who appeared at the ball, was it not?'

'Yes,' Jareth answered guardedly. He offered her his arm and began to lead her away, towards another room where he knew other friends of his were waiting; he didn't want to talk about Sarah in private with this woman. 'She has some old friends here, and I arranged for them to meet.' They arrived at the room he sought, and he reached out to push open the door.

'When I asked what was going on at the ball, Lord Finvarra said it was nothing but politics,' Cliodna began, clearly unwilling to drop the subject. 'Was that true?'

'Are you suggesting that I lied to you, my lady?' Finvarra asked coolly from across the room they had just entered.

'I—of course not, my lord,' Cliodna stammered, and Jareth glanced at her and saw fury brewing behind her eyes; she obviously hadn't been paying attention to where they'd been going, and hadn't realized that the room they were entering was already occupied. 'I merely wondered why the girl was still here.'

'She pertains to a political situation that's been going on for years, Lady Cliodna,' Midir told her. 'Hopefully it will be resolved shortly.'

'Of course,' Cliodna answered with a forced smile. 'Now I understand.' She looked around the room and saw only three of Jareth's closest friends, none of whom looked like they'd tolerate her company. 'Well my lords, if you'll excuse me...' she offered a shallow curtsey, and left the room. Jareth sighed irritably and threw himself into a chair.

'And I was having such a good day,' he grumbled, glaring at the closed door.

'Don't let the likes of her spoil your day, Jareth,' Manannán told him. 'After all, Sarah is still here, isn't she? That's what matters.'

'Yes,' Jareth admitted, a hint of a smile returning to his face. 'I suppose it is. But you probably shouldn't have made up that story about an ongoing political problem...soon enough it will get out that she has nothing to do with Faerie politics.'

'Of course she does,' Finvarra answered. 'You are in love with her, aren't you?'

Jareth blinked mutely at his friends for a moment; this wasn't normally the sort of thing they talked about. 'Yes,' he said at last. 'You know that.'

'Well, isn't the future Goblin Queen of political importance?' Finvarra asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning forward. Jareth couldn't help smiling at the idea.

Goblin Queen...could it ever possibly come to that? So far Sarah hadn't pulled away from him, and seemed to enjoy his company, but even if she did eventually fall in love with him, would she be prepared to leave behind her world and family to be his queen? And even if she was willing...would he let her give up so much? He hated the idea of making her choose between him and her own world.

'How is it that you can smile on minute and look so very glum the next?' Finvarra asked with a sigh. 'Do you not wish to marry her? Really, Midir and Manannan and I are all married. You're overdue.'

'I'm not going to marry her just to fit in with the rest of you. Of course I want to be with her forever...but only if that's what will make her happiest.'

'If that is how you feel,' Finvarra told him softly, 'then how can she not fall in love with you?'

'I do hope you're right, Fin,' Jareth sighed, relaxing in his seat and staring up at the painted ceiling.

'I am always right,' Finvarra answered. 'And don't call me _Fin_.'

'It will be nice to see you finally happy,' Midir said, ignoring Finvarra. 'I feel...something, something approaching in the fabric of destiny.'

'Something good, or something bad?' Jareth asked anxiously, but his friend shook his head.

'That, I cannot say.'

* * *

Sarah need not have worried. She had barely entered the room before she was enveloped by a pair of enormous, fluffy orange arms. There was a furious yapping in the background and she felt a dog leaping repeatedly up to try to lick her face, and in the background a voice cried, 'Fair maiden! Thou hast returned at last!'

Laughing, Sarah hugged Ludo back and eased herself from his grip. She dropped to her knees to hug Ambrocious, who contentedly licked her face, and then turned to Didymus.

'I want to hug you, Sir Didymus,' she laughed, 'but you have to put the sword down, first.' The little knight tossed the blade away and bounded forward, into her embrace. Finally, grinning ridiculously, Sarah pulled away and got to her feet, turning to look at the last person in the room, who stood off to one side. Slowly she walked towards him, bending down to look him in the eye.

'I missed you, Hoggle,' she said quietly, and kissed him on the head. Although, he tried to hide it, the dwarf couldn't suppress the smile that stole across his face.

'Yeah, well,' he said gruffly, 'it's good to see you again, Sarah.'

It was strange. She had only been with Hoggle, Ludo, Didymus and Ambrocious for a few hours, three years ago; she hardly knew them. And yet, she felt perfectly at ease around them, as if they understood her perfectly.

Friendships forged through hardship are the strongest, especially when they are sealed in joy. Happily, Sarah settled down to catch up with her friends, to listen to their stories and tell them hers. Why had she waited so long to return?

One thing was certain: she would definitely be visiting a lot more often from now on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

'There's really only one difference between humans and faeries,' Jareth told Sarah.

'What is it?' she asked, leaning back in her chair.

'I can't tell you. It's a secret.'

'I'm not an idiot, Jareth,' she told him with a smile. 'I know that you wouldn't have said that if you didn't intend to tell me.'

'You obviously know me too well,' Jareth sighed, 'but very well, I'll tell you. Are you ready?'

'Yes.'

Jareth leaned towards her from his chair, until his lips practically brushed her ear, and said, 'Faeries live longer.'

Sarah laughed and pushed him away, and he leaned back, smirking. He could see her little dwarf friend, the one whose name he could never remember, eying him suspiciously from a few feet away, but ignored it. At least Didymus, who had guided her through the Labyrinth out of chivalry without ever actually being told what was going on, didn't seem to have a problem with his friendship with Sarah, and the third friend, the great orange _thing_, didn't seem to care one way or the other. As usual, though, the dwarf was being a meddling pest.

'Sarah,' Jareth said, no longer joking, 'I do not mean to pry, but have you told your friends and family about the Underground?'

'No, of course not. They'd think I'm nuts.'

'But you have been spending so much time here. Do they not wonder where you go?'

'Well, my parents think that I have a boyfriend,' Sarah explained, and Jareth felt a surge of jealousy at the very thought. 'I've never had many friends,' she went on, a sad edge to her voice, 'and I'm not that close to the ones I do have. So it's not really a problem.' Jareth was torn between relief that there was nothing to prevent her from visiting and rage that her own friends did not value her enough to care what she did. She must have been so lonely, these last three years, without him there to comfort her.

'You will always have friends here,' he told her gravely, 'and you always have.'

'I know, Jareth,' Sarah answered softly. 'Thank you.'

The five of them—six including Ambrocious—were sitting in a parlour in his castle. He had sat with her to wait for her friends to arrive, as he always did, but now they had been here for over a quarter of an hour and he knew that he should leave them alone. He just didn't want to. Suppressing a sigh, he glanced towards the door, and stopped, frowning.

It was open. He knew that the guards had closed it behind Didymus and the others, because he always insisted that it be closed. He didn't want anyone getting close to Sarah without him knowing.

'Excuse me, Sarah,' he said, getting to his feet and hurrying to the door. The two guards who were supposed to be outside were nowhere to be seen. There was no one else in sight, either, but Jareth got the distinct impression that someone had retreated around the corner just moments earlier. Trying to smother his worry, he closed the door behind him and headed off. He would have new guards sent, and find the original two to find out what had happened.

After Jareth left there was silence in the room.

'What?' Sarah said defensively.

'I jus' don't trust him, Sarah. You should be careful,' Hoggle warned. Sarah crossed her arms. She had known that she would have to have this conversation eventually, but she'd been putting it off.

'You're prejudiced, Hoggle. Come on, he's not a bad guy.'

'Tell me one thin', Sarah. D'you actually _like_ him, or d'you just want to be able to come Underground?'

'I actually like him,' Sarah glowered. 'And I _don't_ manipulate people.'

'I'm just sayin', be careful. You _know_ what he wants from you...'

'Hoggle...' Sarah moaned, covering her flushing face with her hands. 'First, you're wrong; he never treats me with anything but respect. Second, you're not my father. Third, we're_ just friends_. And fourth, can we please change the subject?'

'I see nothing wrong with Lady Sarah's friendship with His Majesty,' Didymus piped up.

'Friends good,' Ludo agreed, and Ambrocious yapped his agreement.

'Besides, my brother,' Didymus added to Hoggle, 'do you not think that Lady Sarah would make an excellent Goblin Queen?'

'Hey, woah, Didymus!' Sarah cried. 'Don't you think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves there? Jareth and I are _just friends_.'

Technically, that statement was entirely true. Sarah acknowledged the fact that where Jareth was concerned her emotions were far too complicated to be sorted out. And he had...implied...that he cared for her as more than a friend. Still, officially they were nothing more, and the possibility of becoming his queen had never even entered her mind.

Before the conversation could get any more awkward there was a knock at the door, and it opened to admit a tall faerie woman. She had long waves of pale blond hair, alabaster skin, sea grey eyes, and a delicate silver crown around her head. Sarah's first thought was of a nightingale.

'Please forgive my intrusion,' the newcomer said, her voice high and sweet, as she swept into a curtsey.

'Oh, it's not a problem,' Sarah answered, getting to her feet. She wasn't wearing a skirt, so she couldn't curtsey even though this woman was obviously a queen. 'Won't you sit down?'

'Thank you. I have been so looking forward to meeting you, Lady Sarah,' the woman said, not even glancing at Hoggle and the others. 'My name is Queen Cliodna.'

'Pleased to meet you,' Sarah said. 'Jare—I mean, King Jareth hasn't introduced me to any other fae yet, so it's nice to finally meet someone.'

'Hasn't he?' Cliodna asked, her perfect eyebrows arching. 'How strange. You have been visiting the Underground for over a month now, have you not?'

'Yes, I have,' Sarah answered, surprised that this strange woman knew so much about her. 'Are you a friend of Jareth's?' she asked, glancing over at Hoggle and the others, who remained silent.

'Yes, I have known Jareth for a _very _long time,' Cliodna told her, smiling in a way that wasn't friendly at all. 'After all, I am an Unseelie queen, and he is an Unseelie king...even if we _didn't_ want to see each other, we wouldn't be able to avoid it.'

'I...see...' Sarah said, unidentifiable feelings stirring within her at the idea of Jareth's friendship with this beautiful, clearly powerful queen.

'So how long have you known him?' Cliodna asked.

'Well...it's sort of complicated.' She had dreamed about Jareth since she was just a small child. Did that count as knowing him? Even if it did, though, Cliodna had probably known him for centuries. Or millennia.

'I hope you don't mind me asking,' Cliodna said, 'but what exactly is your relationship with Jareth?'

Sarah took a moment to prevent her face from descending back into a glower. There was no way she was going to say "we're just friends" to this woman. This woman who obviously seemed to think she had some sort of claim to Jareth, just because she'd known him longer.

'I don't mind at all,' she finally said in as sweet a voice as she could muster. 'I'm afraid that I can't really answer, though. You see,' she went on, and paused, her eyes flicking momentarily to Hoggle's, 'we're still figuring that out ourselves.'

'I see,' Cliodna replied coolly. 'How interesting. You see, that is really why I came to see you. In the spirit of sisterhood, I felt like I should warn you, one woman to another: he cannot be trusted.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that you shouldn't let him manipulate you. I mean no offense, Sarah...but you're a human commoner. Jareth is an immortal king of indescribable power. There can never be any real bond between you. He is just using you.'

'Thank you for the warning,' Sarah snapped, 'but I'm not here trying to win myself a crown, I just enjoy his company. And I'll judge his intentions on my own.'

'I see that I've upset you,' Cliodna sighed with exaggerated chagrin. 'Of course the choice is yours. Please don't be insulted, though, when I say that you are very young and inexperienced. Perhaps before you make your decision you should know of all of the other pretty human girls Jareth has lured here.'

There was a long moment silence.

'You didn't think you were the first, did you?'

Sarah said nothing.

'Every month of so dear Jareth has a new pet. He never keeps them long—just until they give in to his advances. Eventually he will find a woman worthy of being his queen, but until then he must resort to more—if I may say—_crude_ ways of satisfying his lust.'

'And do you warn all of the girls he brings home?' Sarah finally asked, her voice defiant.

'When I can,' Cliodna replied graciously.

'In the spirit of sisterhood,' Sarah said drily. 'How kind of you.'

'I try. Just because a girl is mortal and has no royal blood doesn't mean she should be taken advantage of, does it? And—'

Before she could finish the door to the room burst open and Jareth strode in.

'Queen Cliodna,' he said icily. 'How nice to see you again.' Three other faeries marched in after him, flanking him.

'King Jareth,' she answered, her smooth face faltering for a moment. 'I was just getting better acquainted with your guest.'

'So I see. I mean no disrespect...but would you please leave? _Immediately?_' The fury in Jareth voice was enough to make Sarah clutch the arms of her chair, even though it was directed at another.

'Of course,' Cliodna replied, perfectly politely. She got to her feet, curtsied gracefully, and swept from the room.

'Sarah, is everything alright?' Jareth asked as soon as she was gone.

'Yeah, it's fine,' Sarah answered. 'Did you...hear what we were talking about?'

'No. I just know that she enchanted the guards at the door in order to be able to come and talk to you. I have also caught her in suspicious situations before, and I know that she has been in contact with my political enemies. I do not want you to get drawn into Faerie politics, Sarah.'

'She was just being friendly,' Sarah told him. 'Who are you friends?'

The three men standing behind Jareth were all very tall and beautiful, and Sarah focused on them instead of thinking about what Cliodna had told her.

'This is King Midir of the Seelie Court,' Jareth said, gesturing to a man with golden curls and bright green eyes, 'High King Finvarra of the Unseelie Court,' –-this time he pointed to the tallest of the four, a man with long black hair and grey eyes— 'and King Mannanan of the Seelie Court.' The last faerie had long waves of brown hair, a flowing beard and dark blue eyes. 'They are all great friends of mine. Midir, Finvarra, Mannanan—this is Sarah.'

'Such a pleasure to finally meet you,' Midir said, bowing.

'Same,' Sarah muttered, trying to smile.

_I will not believe a word Cliodna said_, she told herself as she looked at Jareth. _She's a cold, manipulative bitch who was obviously just trying to come between us. I will not believe her_.

It was true that Jareth could never have a serious relationship with a human commoner, though. There was no denying that, which meant that he _must_ just be toying with her. And it was true that he must have had affairs with women before—after all, he'd been alive for millennia.

For the first time, though, Sarah found herself unable to deny the feelings she had been developing for Jareth.

_I won't believe her_, she repeated to herself.

But the seeds of doubt were there.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

'Sarah, you're still at home?' Karen asked, poking her head around the door to Sarah's room.

'Obviously.'

'Is everything all right? For a month you were hardly ever here, and but you haven't gone out once in the last week.'

'I'm fine. Just tired.'

'Did you and Jareth have a fight?'

'Karen,' Sarah sighed, finally sitting up in bed, where she'd been lying staring at the ceiling with a stolen Lancelot pressed to her chest, 'I don't want to be rude, but it really isn't any of your business.'

'Of course,' Karen answered, her face pinching with displeasure. 'Well, if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know.' Finally, she left.

Sarah flopped back down onto her bed and rolled onto her stomach.

It wasn't true that she hadn't been out in a week—she had gone Underground a few times, but never for long, and always late at night. It wasn't that she didn't want to go anymore; it was just that she was so emotionally confused that she couldn't handle it for long. Yes, she liked being with Jareth. He made her feel strong and special and safe, when he smiled her heart pounded and when he looked her in the eye a warm glow spread over her. Sarah had never been in love before, so she didn't know if that's what was happening now, but she knew she felt _something_.

And yet...

'Stupid meddling faerie queen,' Sarah muttered, sitting up and crossing her arms. And yet in spite of whatever she felt, she couldn't get Cliodna's words out of her head. Because they were true. Even if Jareth did care for her, it could never come to anything. So that was that.

Sighing heavily, she got to her feet and left the room; she needed fresh air, which she hadn't had in ages—school was out for Spring Break, so she'd had no reason to leave the refuge of her room, and when she'd visited Faerie they had stayed inside.

Passing Toby's room, she tossed Lancelot onto his bed and headed downstairs.

'I'm going for a walk!' she called as she put her coat on, and then hurried out before her parents could stop her. There had been freezing rain the night before so the roads were slick with black ice, and the wind raged in a torrent through the houses.

'I love pathetic fallacy,' Sarah muttered to herself, kicking a chunk of ice ahead of her, 'but not in real life.' The streetlights were dull and cast only faint illumination, and the unnatural light grated at her eyes. She wanted darkness, darkness and silence that would let her think. There was only one place to go for that: the park. She was close already, her feet having brought her there of their own accord, and she relaxed slightly as she stepped away from the road and into the field of snow.

She had been coming here for so long. The first time Sarah had discovered this place had been just after her mother had left, when she was still a little girl. It had been her refuge, her sanctuary, and her playground, and it was sacred to her.

Lost in memories, Sarah dawdled through the park, paying no attention to where she was going, letting her feet take her down the snowy paths she had wondered so often. It had almost been easier when she had had few or no friends—she had been lonely, but things had been simpler. Sighing for what felt like the thousandth time that evening, she leaned her head back to face the dark, overcast sky, letting the wind pull at her hair and sneak into her coat, and closed her eyes for a long moment.

It was only when she opened her eyes again that she saw them.

There were four of them. For a second Sarah watched them in confusion, for there could be no doubt what they were; all were male, all tall and surreally beautiful, two with hair almost as light as the snow around them, the other two with slick and shining black locks, all of their eyes as dark as onyx. Faeries.

Had Jareth sent them? For a second Sarah began to smile, but their predatory gait and the way they stalked slowly closer, made her falter, and some animal instinct caused fear to begin to brew in her chest. Sarah had never had to fear fae before, but she could see the dark purpose in the eyes of their eyes and knew that she should.

_Who were they? What were they doing here? _

'Hello?' she called tentatively, but their only answer was to quicken their pace and, to Sarah's fear and horror, draw their swords.

This was no message; this was an attack.

For a long moment Sarah stood still as the frozen trees, her lungs sealed closed, her blood pounding furiously, as they approached. The slowly drifting snowflakes seemed to hold time suspended in the air, but then the moment passed and she stumbled back, desperate to run for safety but unwilling to turn her back on the fae. They were getting close, not rushing at her but slinking steadily forward, and Sarah realized suddenly that she had no way of protecting herself. For whatever reason, these Faeries wanted to hurt her, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. The Park wasn't big, but it was late and there was no one around, and even if there were, no human would be able to help. She could make a run for it, but what were the chances that she could outrun them?

There was only one thing to do, only one person who could possibly save her. Sarah took a deep breath, and cried, 'I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away right now!'

The attacking faeries were only feet away now, but at her words they stopped. There was a tinkle of light, and Sarah felt the warm, safe feelings she had come to associate with the Underground wash over her.

'Sarah?' said Jareth's low voice in her ear. 'Sarah, what is going on?'

'I don't know,' she answered, surprised by the steadiness of her voice. 'Did you send these faeries to talk to me?'

'No,' he answered, his voice soft with fury. 'Who are you?' he demanded, stepping between her and her assailants. 'This girl is under my protection, under the protection of King Jareth of the Goblin City, and by that name I ask you: who wishes her harm?'

For a long moment there was no answer, and then the foremost faerie made a hand gesture, and they all disappeared.

'Sarah!' cried Jareth, turning around and pulling her into his arms. 'Oh, Sarah, my precious Sarah, are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?'

'I'm fine, Jareth,' she sighed, a little peeved that he thought she was so frail, but nevertheless glad to have his arms around her. 'I'm just a little freaked out. Why would anyone want to hurt me?'

'I feared that this would happen,' Jareth sighed, pulling back to look down into her eyes. 'This is why I didn't introduce you to any other fae; I don't want you to get involved in Faerie politics. But now I can think of no other explanation... One of my enemies must know about you, and seek to use you to hurt or control me.'

Sarah took a deep breath. She should probably be thinking about the threat to her life, shouldn't she? Not thinking about the fact that if his enemies could use her against him, then he must care for her.

'Do you have any idea who sent them?'

'No,' he growled, 'but I will find out soon enough. You're sure you're alright?'

'Yes, Jareth,' she answered, smiling up at him. She did feel very cold and knew that she was shivering uncontrollably, but she was okay. 'Thanks for coming,' she said, and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. She felt him twitch in surprise, but then he pulled her closer and rested his chin on her head.

'Everything I do, Sarah,' he told her. 'Everything I do.'

* * *

Jareth stormed through his castle. The sky outside was black and stormy, reflecting his mood, and every so often a crack of thunder would sound and lightning would split the sky. Most of his guests had taken one look at the weather and told their servants to pack their things—when Jareth was angry he wasn't a very good host.

Only four guests hadn't terminated the extended visit: Jareth's three best friends, and Cliodna.

For some reason.

Lightning forked across the sky as he thought of her. Whatever she had said to Sarah, it had made her distant and reserved for a week. Luckily, her trepidation seemed to have faded now—Jareth's temper softened slightly as he remembered how she had embraced him—but he still knew that the meddling queen had said _something_ to her that had upset her. If only he knew what it was, he could help...

He sighed, conjuring a crystal and absentmindedly spinning it through his fingers. Everything would be fine. Sarah knew that she had only to call his name and he would come; she would not be hurt. He would have liked to watch over her or send someone to guard her, but he didn't want to invade her privacy. If there was another attack he would ask her if he could, for her own protection, but until then he would just wait.

And there _wouldn't_ be another attack. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her. Things were finally right between them, as they should be, and he wouldn't let anything jeopardize that. They were friends, at the very least, and she could not possibly doubt his affection for her. Even if he wanted to hide how he felt, he knew that he would not be able to. His every move, his every word, his every expression betrayed his feelings for her, and there were times when he thought that she just might be beginning to feel the same about him.

Jareth entered his private chambers and fell into a chair, sighing and rubbing his temples. He couldn't think that. Just because she smiled at him didn't mean she loved him. He couldn't read too much into what she said and did, or he would end up having his heart broken.

Again.

So she had hugged him earlier. She had been giddy with fear and shock, and had wanted comfort. It meant nothing.

And yet...

Would it hurt to ask? If he told her honestly that he valued her friendship above all else and that he wanted to make sure she always felt comfortable coming to his realm, and that his intentions were nothing but honourable...but that he loved her, and had loved her for years...would that drive her away?

No. He had to believe that even if she didn't feel the way he wanted her to feel, she at least enjoyed his company and considered him a friend. Knowing Sarah, she would sacrifice friendship for nothing. She would gently turn him down, and things would go on unchanged. She would not hold it against him.

There would be no harm done. And he had promised himself, when she had first returned, that he would be completely honest with her. Yes, next time she came Underground he would tell her.

* * *

Cliodna crouched in the shadows of the human world.

'Incompetent fools,' she muttered, the strip of cloth held tightly between her fingers. 'Why must I do everything myself?'

She had warned them again and again not to let the mortal brat speak, to take her by surprise so that she could not call for help. Why hadn't they listened? This girl had strength; she was not to be underestimated.

Light finally came to the sky, and still Cliodna waited. Birds sang the morning chorus, fluttering joyfully around the faerie queen, and she smiled at them, letting them land in her hands and on her shoulders as she waited, listening to the household begin to awaken. The father was the first to leave the house, hurrying to his car with a thermos and a briefcase, and then the backdoor opened as the stepmother let the dog out into the yard.

And then, finally, Sarah came trudging out the front door, a school bag on her shoulder and a book in her hand. Noiselessly, Cliodna dropped from the branches of the tree to the ground directly behind her, and quick as a falcon she slipped the gag into her mouth, silencing her before she could scream.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Every day brought more fear, more pain, more despair. Whatever spell Sarah was under constricted her lungs, letting her breath shallowly but not speak, and caused an endless, throbbing pain between her ribs. She was kept in a stone cell with a heavy iron door, the only light coming from the torches that flickered outside. There was no way to know how long she had been there, but it had been a long time.

And she still didn't know where she was, or who had taken her. Soon after she first awakened in the cold and the dark, a man had come down to see her. He had apologized for the poor conditions she was kept in, but explained that of course no one could know she was there, so they could hardly keep her in the guest suite. He had also mentioned that he was working for someone else. Since then, she had seen no one save the hand that passed her trays of food, on occasion.

_Jareth_, she thought as she lay in silence on the stone floor, _have you abandoned me?_

Because if he was searching for her—if he cared—then how was it possible that he hadn't found her yet? She had tried to wish for him again and again, but couldn't draw enough breath to speak and always ended up curled on the floor, clutching her chest and taking long, rasping breaths as she shivered in pain and exhaustion. Even so, though—even if she hadn't been able to call him—surely he would have noticed that she was missing? Surely he would have checked to make sure she was okay, after that first attack?

Unless it was as that queen had said. Unless she was just entertainment to him, and not worth the time it would take to rescue.

_No, I can't let myself think that_.

She had to believe that he would come for her.

* * *

Jareth sat in his study, staring at a letter from one of his ambassadors, but his mind was far away.

It had been two months, today, since he had seen Sarah. She hadn't called him, hadn't wished herself Underground, had sent no word. He had worried, at first, that she might have been attacked again, but when he had broken his own rules and scried her—to make sure no harm had come to her—he had seen that she was perfectly fine, going about her life.

She just chose not to come back. Either his friendship wasn't worth the threat she now knew she faced, or else she had just tired of Faerie.

Tired of him.

Either way, she didn't love him.

Sighing heavily, he began to conjure a crystal, but stopped at the last second. He refused to spy on her, to invade her privacy. She was safe—yesterday he had scried her for a few seconds and seen her lying in bed with a book, smiling. She was safe, and she was happy, and those precious few weeks he had spent with her had been nothing but a dream. Things would go back to the way they had been before Valentine's evening.

Pushing the letter aside, Jareth got to his feet and left the study. He didn't have enough energy to work.

Life would move on, and he would be dragged with it, out of the happiness of the past.

'Jareth, wait.'

Sighing, he turned around to see his chief advisor, Trevaylen.

'What is it?'

'You have been avoiding me. The council has met three times without you now.'

'I have had other things to deal with,' Jareth answered vaguely. 'I trust you to make good decision.'

'My liege, our borders are weak, there are whispers of rebellion among the citizens, and your neighbours have begun to break trade laws. More importantly, though, the magic of the land is weakening. I realize that you are upset, but this cannot go on.'

'Trevaylen,' Jareth answered, 'I know all of that. And I will think of a way to handle it. But unless you have any suggestions—'

'Jareth,' Trevaylen interrupted, and Jareth grit his teeth at the disrespect, but didn't protest. 'You have to stop disregarding politics. You need to strengthen your alliances with other powerful kingdoms, and give your own citizens reason to revere you. Spending all your time in private, sulking in your study or romancing a human girl—'

'Enough!' Jareth snapped. 'I understand. Have you anything else to say to me?' Trevaylen hesitated, obviously not finished, but shook his head, and Jareth turned and stormed off. Outside, the sky darkened with clouds and lightning forked across the sky.

Night came, but Jareth did not sleep.

Trevaylen was right. He was going to have to let Sarah go.

He'd done it before, he could do it again. He had to take care of his kingdom, his subjects.

* * *

'Lord Jareth.'

Jareth sighed.

He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

'What is it?' he said, without turning around to see who was speaking to him. The sun had just started to lighten the eastern sky, and he was in the garden, where he had sat for hours listening to the haunting song of a nightingale.

'I should be asking you that,' said the quiet voice behind him, and a soft hand touched his shoulder.

His heart ached, and a drowsy numbness pained his sense, and he leaned into the comfort in spite of himself. He was so tired.

And then he recognised the voice.

'What are you doing here, Cliodna?' he asked, standing up and turning to face her. A month ago she had finally left his court, and he hadn't seen her since.

'I am here to offer you my help, Jareth...and to request yours.'

'I do not need help,' he said, more to himself than to her. How had she gotten into his gardens? Foreigners couldn't just come and go as they pleased. 'And I am not in the mood to discuss politics.' Cliodna frowned.

'Your advisors didn't talk to you?'

'What do you mean?'

'I spoke with your council—'

'You _what_?' Jareth demanded furiously. 'You are a visiting monarch, Lady Cliodna. You cannot—'

'My ambassador set up the council meeting, according to custom,' Cliodna cut in smoothly. 'You were supposed to be there.'

Jareth was silent.

If someone had told him that another monarch was coming to the meeting, he might have attended.

'What were my advisors supposed to tell me after the meeting?' he asked coldly, and she turned her sea-grey eyes to the ground.

'You are upset with me. I have done nothing to wrong you. I came here with the knowledge that both of our realms are in danger, seeking only to find a way to help us both, and you spring to anger and suspicion.'

Jareth slowly released his breath, forcing himself to relax.

She was right. He always saw everyone as an enemy, these days.

'Forgive me,' he said, grinding out the words that he had always found so hard to say. He hadn't even asked Sarah to forgive him...

Jareth shook his head infinitesimally. He had to stop thinking about Sarah, had to get her out of his head, out of his heart. Cliodna was here to help his subjects, and that was what was most important. He would hear her out without hostility.

Sarah... Well, he could never forget her, never stop mourning her, but he would keep her memory safe and quiet in his heart.

'Come my lady, now is not the time to be wandering the gardens. Let us return to the castle.' He offered her his arm, and she smiled as she took it and let him lead her from the trees.

* * *

How hard could it be to say the words?

_I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away right now_.

It was easy. She could do it. She just had to take a deep breath first.

Lying on her back on the hard stone floor, the chill seeping through her clothes, Sarah took shallow breath after shallow breath, trying to save up enough to speak. She had spent hours trying to find a way to unlock the door or get through the other walls, as she had done a thousand times since her capture, but to no avail. Jareth was her only hope.

'I—' she wheezed, but then her ribs threatened to collapsed around her empty lungs and she clutched her chest in pain, shudders wracking through her.

_

* * *

_

_His heart ached, and a drowsy numbness pained his sense: stolen directly from John Keats._


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm so terribly sorry this took so long. I hope you haven't given up on me! Quick reminder of what happened in the first eight chapters: Sarah and Jareth are both alone on Valentine's Day, and both feel a mysterious presence watching them. Then Sarah wishes for Jareth, starts chilling with him Underground and starts to fall for him. Then a Faerie queen named Cliodna, who's obviously into Jareth, kidnaps her. Whenever Jareth tries to scry her, he sees a fake image of her going about her life, perfectly content, and thinks that she's just ditched him again. _

_Enjoy! _

**Chapter 9**

The cell door swung open.

For a long moment Sarah just stayed there, on the floor, where she had sat for the last two and a half months. She had been in solitary confinement, alone in the dark silence, for so long that she no longer trusted her own senses; it wouldn't be the first time that she dreamed of the door opening.

Then the guards reached into the tiny room, unchained her, and pulled her to her feet. Her legs were unable to hold her after so long without use, so she was dragged along through the halls. When they left the darkness of the prison the light blinded her, and she cried out in pain, but the guards did not stop. With great effort, Sarah managed to support herself to some degree, taking painful steps and watching the ground.

What was going on? Where were they taking her? Had Jareth come for her at last?

They led her along warm corridors with big windows, and then to a tall wooden door. The guards pulled her in, set her down in a wooden chair, and then bowed to the figure standing facing away before retreating. Sarah breathed deeply, still squinting in the bright light, and looked sharply around the room. She seemed to be in a luxurious study, with beautiful tapestries on the walls and ebony furniture, but before she could get a good look the man at the window turned to face her.

'Sarah Williams,' he said. Like all fae, he was beautiful, with Native American skin and features, flecks of green in his eyes and the gentlest smile Sarah had ever seen. 'Please accept my apologies for the terrible conditions you have been kept in. It was unavoidable, but everything is different now. You will be treated much better from now on.'

Sarah kept her eyes locked on his, but she knew not to try and speak; she didn't want to end up writhing on the floor, clutching her ribcage.

'Oh, how rude of me,' the faerie said, coming to stand directly in front her. 'My name is King Kaneron. You need not be afraid; I will not let anyone hurt you, and you will be released as soon as possible. And we removed the spell that was on you,' he added kindly. 'You can speak again.'

'I can?' Sarah said; her voice was hoarse from lack of use, but there was no pain in her chest, no lack of air. She took a deep breath and cried, 'I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away right now!'

Nothing happened.

'I wish I could talk to the Goblin King right now,' she tried again.

Again, nothing.

'I wish I was with King Jareth right now,' she said, slightly desperately.

But again, there was nothing, tra la la.

'That's right,' Kaneron said gently after a long moment of silence. 'You see, that doesn't work anymore.'

'Why not?' Sarah demanded. All of her other questions threatened to spill out after it—_Where was she? Why was she here? Who was Kaneron? What did he want with her? Why was he being so kind? Did her family know she was alright? How long had she been here? What was_—but they were cut short by Kaneron's reply.

'Because,' he said simply, 'you are no longer bound to Jareth.'

* * *

There was a ball tonight. Jareth had made all the arrangements, and it was already clear that it would be a grand event. In many ways, it was similar to all the other parties and ceremonies he had planned over the last three years, with one key difference: tonight, he actually planned to enjoy himself.

Everything was in place, and all the guests had arrived. Jareth was the perfect host, talking, laughing and dancing; there were times when the hollow within his chest seemed to fill with cold, but if he just talked faster, laughed louder, dancer harder, it would go away. With time, he was determined to forget it entirely. Just the thought of what he was celebrating tonight mended his heart a little more.

He couldn't wait for Sarah any longer, couldn't give her any more chances. All it was doing was destroying him. She had made her choice, and it was probably for the best; he had no regrets.

'What are you three doing skulking over here in the corner?' Jareth said playfully, beholding his three best friends in a huddle near the wall. 'This is a ball, not a war council!'

'Yes,' Midir agreed. 'And for the past few years, you've enjoyed councils a lot more than you have balls. And yet you're awfully cheerful tonight.'

'I have a lot to be cheerful about,' Jareth said, with a genuine smile. 'Tonight is the end of old woes. I cannot spend all of my time pining—it was destroying my kingdom and my heart. Tonight, I do what is best for my people, and what is best for me.'

'Best for you?' Finvarra repeated incredulously. 'How is this best for you? _You love Sarah!_'

Jareth's smile softened, turning almost indulgent.

'Used to,' he corrected. 'I used to love Sarah. Maybe I don't anymore. Maybe now I love—'

'Do not even say it,' Manannán groaned. 'We all know that you don't. Why are you doing this?'

'Why are you all resisting it so much?' Jareth laughed. 'Stop complaining; anyway, it's too late to go back.'

'It is _not_ too late,' Finvarra protested. 'Betrothals are not set in stone. You can still change your mind.'

'I don't want to change my mind,' Jareth told them firmly. 'Cliodna is a beautiful, sophisticated and intelligent woman, and she will make a great queen and a marvellous wife.'

* * *

_I know this was short. I need to get back into the swing of things, and I promise it'll be long next time. And yes, I know...after nine and a half months, I don't deserve reviews. Thanks for your patience! _

_PS: sorry again for the delay! _


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Jareth was with his fiancée. They had been so caught up in the politics and customs surrounding marriage that they had had hardly any time to just be together, and even though it wasn't proper for them to sneak off alone like this, they just had to get away. There was so much that Jareth wanted to show Cliodna... She had visited his kingdom many times, but he had never brought her into its depths, never shown her the hidden, secret wonders it held.

They walked slowly among the trees, the silver moonlight treading softly with them through the woods. Dryads moved gently in the cold breeze, glowing softly, and pixies fluttered around their branches. It was a perfect, beautiful, magical night, and Jareth basked in the romance.

'This is beautiful,' Cliodna sighed, stopping in wonder upon a hilltop. Before them, the Faerie forest was displayed in all its splendour, the light from the full moon sparkling in blue and silver off of the snow that bedecked the dark boughs, and between the trees they could see the glint of water below. 'And this is only the beginning, Jareth,' she added with a smile. 'Think of all the wonders we will see and do when we are truly bound together. When our magic is combined, just think... Every sensation will be far more intense.'

'I know,' Jareth answered softly, and then joy bubbled up inside him and he laughed out loud. Cliodna laughed with him, catching his hand in hers and running down the hill towards the lake, pulling him with her. The wind pulled his hair back, sharp and cold but still pleasant, and he didn't think he had ever felt so happy, so alive.

Except, of course...but no. He wasn't going to think about Sarah, especially not now.

They reached the edge of the lake, which was glassy and smooth as a black mirror, and in their reflection Jareth could see that Cliodna was smiling blissfully, her eyes as alive as his.

'It is wonderful, is it not?' he breathed, drawing her slightly closer.

'Magnificent,' she replied. 'Spectacular. Magical. It's like a dream, Jareth. It's everything I ever dreamed of.'

'I am glad,' he told her softly, and they walked on in silence until they reached the trailing, sweeping boughs of a weeping willow, with branches drifting in the lake, where Jareth pulled back the curtain of leaves for to Cliodna pass beneath. Inside the canopy of the willow it was darker, with just a few silver rays of moonlight trickling in between the branches, and Jareth stopped for a moment to close his eyes and breathe in the scent of the frozen sap.

When he opened his eyes Cliodna was watching him, the moonlight falling across her serene face, and he smiled at her.

'Thank you so much for bringing me here,' she said. 'I want to see your whole kingdom, Jareth. I want to know every last tree in the woods, every last stone in the mountains.

They were still standing beneath the willow, closed off from the rest of the world, the moonlight shimmering between them, and his hand was warm in hers. For a long moment they gazed into each other's eyes, and then she leaned forward and softly touched her lips to his. His mouth moved beneath hers, deepening the kiss, and he pulled her closer, revelling in the feelings that stirred within him at her touch, as the sky, moon and stars poured their mysterious light down upon them.

* * *

Back in the castle, Finvarra gagged and Midir covered his face with his hand.

'This is getting ridiculous,' Manannán said, staring down at the mirror they were using to scry Jareth.

'Absolutely ridiculous,' Finvarra agreed. '_It's like a dream, Jareth. It's everything I ever dreamed of_,' he quoted, and waved his hand to wipe the mirror blank. 'I cannot watch anymore.'

'I just do not understand,' Manannán said, shaking his head. 'Jareth was so in love with Sarah, and he could not stand Cliodna. For months he was constantly complaining about how he wanted her to leave, how she was prying into things that don't concern her. And now he is marrying her!'

'How could he forget Sarah so easily?' Midir added. 'It seems so unlike him.'

'Does it?' Finvarra asked. 'I think it's exactly like him. He loved Sarah, and loved her very much. But she hurt him one too many times. How much can he be expected to take? Personally, I'm more furious with the girl right now. How could she abandon him like this, when he gave her everything?'

'We don't even know what happened,' Midir protested. 'Remember, the course of true love never did run smooth.'

'If there's one thing we know about Jareth, it's that he's very proud,' Manannán said miserably. 'And Sarah wounded his pride for the second time. Perhaps he is right to try to forget about her, for she obviously doesn't care about him. But to marry Cliodna seems a little bit extreme.'

'Well, he clearly isn't going to listen to us on the subject,' Finvarra sighed. 'This is your fault, Midir. You're the one who is always pressuring him to get married.'

'I thought we agreed it was Sarah fault,' Midir replied. 'If Jareth won't listen to us, the least we can do for him is find out what really happened. We need to go to Sarah and make her tell us what's really going on.'

'Do you know where she lives?' Manannán asked him, and Midir shook his head.

'No, but we can go and ask those three friends of hers. The dwarf, the fox and the orange...thing. they must know.'

Finvarra nodded. 'At this point, it may be all we can do for him. He deserves closure. We will go and find her friends tomorrow.'

* * *

Sarah was sitting in an enormous armchair in a lavish chamber with queen-sized bed, a crystal chandelier and a full bookshelf. Everything was decorated in green and blue, and the furniture was all made of ebony. There was a bowl of fruit and a pitcher of water beside her, and everything was beautiful and elegant and luxurious. In fact, Sarah wouldn't have had a problem with it at all, except for one little thing: there was no door.

For Sarah was still a prisoner, of course. Kaneron had promised that as soon as possible, she'd be sent home, but until then she was to remain in this room at all times. Apparently a spell had been worked on her family and friends to make them think she was away at school, and that she had been all year, and to prevent them from being able to think about her for more than a few seconds. This had made Sarah furious, but Kaneron had patiently explained that it was necessary.

Necessary for what, he hadn't said.

So now Sarah was all alone, in this beautiful room, and she was getting fed up. All that time she's been locked up, she'd been waiting for Jareth to come and rescue her. But Jareth wasn't coming. He had severed his bond with her, abandoned her when she needed him most. Maybe rescuing her just wasn't worth the effort.

But what was wrong with her? Why did she think she needed rescuing? What the hell had she been thinking, playing the damsel in distress?

So there was no door. Fine, she'd find another way out. She hadn't read all those fantasy books without learning a thing or two about escape. Sarah got to her feet and went to the window, which was far too high up to jump from, and was also locked. No problem, she picked up a paper weight from the table and smashed the lock until it broke, and then forced open the window.

It was chilly out, but not cold enough to pose a problem. Sarah quickly tore up the sheets and curtains and tied the strips together to make a rope. She tied it to the bedpost, tossed it out the window and climbed up onto the windowsill.

_Damsel in distress, my ass_, she thought to herself. _I could have escaped weeks ago. This is what falling in love does to girls...it makes them weak_.

Sarah froze as the thought passed through her mind. Falling in love? Is that what had happened, had she fallen in love with Jareth?

Maybe so. But even if she had, he obviously didn't love her back. She was over it now. She was herself again.

'I'm back,' she said out loud, and began to lower herself from the window.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Sarah had climbed about six feet down the wall when she realized how entirely idiotic this escape plan was. She was at least five stories up! Even if the makeshift rope didn't break, and the knot didn't come undone, she'd probably lose her grip and fall to her death. And even if she didn't, how did she expect to get away? What were the chances Kaneron didn't have guards set around his courtyard? Besides, she didn't have any supplies and she didn't know where she was going or how to get back to the human world.

What a stupid, stupid plan.

She took several deep breaths to reign in her panic, and let herself slide a few more feet down until she was resting on a windowsill. Her heart pounded as she as she tried not to think of the sound her body would make hitting the ground, and she stood as far to the edge of the window as she could and peeked in. The room was empty. Breathing heavily, she tied the rope around her waist in case she slipped, and bent down to see if she could pry it open. It appeared to be locked.

Okay. Not a problem. She's keep climbing until she found one that wasn't. Or she'd climb back up to her own window. Or...

No. She wasn't strong enough to climb back up, and if she kept climbing she'd probably fall. All she could do was stand here and wait for someone to see her.

Sarah glared at the window. It just...wasn't..._fair!_ She kicked the glass in fury, and as she was thrown off balance she had a moment to mentally scream at herself for doing something so impulsive and stupid. Then the rope caught her and she regained her balance, and a large crack appeared in the window where she had struck it. It took her a few seconds to calm herself, but then she clutched the edge of the window and proceeded to give the pane of glass repeated, controlled kicks until it shattered, and she could fall through it in relief.

When her heart had calm down a bit, Sarah untied the rope and drew the curtains over the broken window, and looked around the room. She seemed to be in a study of some sort; on one side of the room was a desk, bookshelf and cabinet, and on the other was a stone table covered in strange tools and overlooked by several shelves holding little vials and boxes. Sarah was intrigued and went to examine the table more closely, but when a pair of forceps tried to bite her she stepped back. Feeling a little cheated, she pocketed a few unlabeled vials and headed to the door.

Sarah wasn't naive. She knew full well that the only reason she had escaped so easily was because Kaneron assumed she was weak and incapable because she was human, and that if he caught her again he would put her in much higher security. Fae had been underestimating her since she was fifteen, though, and she wasn't above taking advantage of it.

For a moment Sarah considered just making a run for it, but decided that her chances of success were very slim; there would be guards, and a wall, and possibly a moat, and she would be caught and dragged back. And she didn't even know how to get back to the human world, or how to contact her fae friends. No, in order to escape she would need some sort of weapon, or money, or information.

Sarah had never been much of a planner, though; she was more of a doer. Act first, ask questions later. If she wasn't going to escape right away, then she'd find a way to access one of those three things. She remembered generally where Kaneron's study had been, and to her relief the halls of his castle didn't seem to be constantly changing the way Jareth's did. With only a vague idea of what she would do when she reached it, Sarah set off through the corridors. She passed few people, and those she did paid her no heed; probably no one knew she was here, so no one would know to report her.

It didn't take Sarah long to reach the study, but once she got there she was out of ideas. After glaring at the door for a while, she tried the doorknob, but it was locked. She pressed her ear to the crack, but heard nothing, and there was no keyhole to spy through. For a brief moment she considered attempting to kick it down, but what if someone saw? Even if they didn't know who she was, kicking on the King's study door was definitely suspicious and probably treasonous behaviour.

So here she was, out of her room but still just as trapped, hanging around waiting to be caught again. Nothing to do but worry.

About herself, and her friends and family, and...

_No, don't think about him. He doesn't matter. _

It was perfectly clear that Jareth didn't love her. He had severed their bond, and apparently didn't even care enough to save her from the danger _he _had put her in. For this must all be because of him—why else would King Kaneron be after her?

_So just don't think about Jareth. _Sarah punched the stone wall. Bad idea; now her hand hurt so much that her eyes were watering from the pain.

That's right; her eyes were watering because her hand hurt. She _wasn't_ crying.

'This is so unfair,' she muttered. And then, before she could do anything else, the door to Kaneron's study began to move.

Sarah didn't have time to think. In a panic, she threw herself around the corner, trying to breathe quietly. Who had been in the room? Was it Kaneron, or one of his servants? She could only hope it was the latter. Sarah's fists were clenched at her sides and she pressed herself to the wall, straining her ears. She sighed in relief when she heard the door close and footsteps retreating down the hall away from her.

Though her heart was still pounding, Sarah pushed herself away from the wall and peeked cautiously around the corner just in time to see Kaneron turning at the other end.

_Here goes nothing,_ she thought, and hurried after him, treading as lightly as she could on the hard stone floor. He seemed to be in a hurry, and didn't seem at all suspicious.

_He must feel completely safe in his own castle. Besides, I'm just a weak little human girl to him; he'd never expect I was capable of escaping_.

Still, Sarah knew that she could only follow him for so long before he either noticed her or she lost him. To her relief, it didn't take him long to get where he was going. They descended a staircase and wound through the halls until they reached a secluded hall. Upstairs there hadn't been many people around, but here there was absolutely no one. Sarah watched from around the corner as Kaneron entered a room, and then hurried up to the closed door.

So here she was again, in the same situation. Just her and a closed door, and all her thoughts and worries. Maybe Kaneron wasn't even doing anything important; maybe he just wanted a break from his homework and came to get a snack or something.

Okay, maybe that wasn't very likely. But whether he was taking a nap or putting the final touches on his Death Star, Sarah had no way of getting into the room to find out. With a sigh, she leaned against the door, closing her eyes. She just had to think...

And then, in the silence, she heard something. Voices from behind the closed door. They were faint, but she could make out most of the words.

'...higher security?' a female voice was saying angrily. 'Anyone could spy on us in here! There isn't even a sound barrier.'

'We've been over this,' Kaneron answered tightly. 'No one can know you're here. As long as your presence here goes unnoticed, no one has any _reason _to spy on us. But if we have an official diplomatic meeting, do you really think word won't get back to Jareth?'

Sarah's already clenched fists tightened at the sound of Jareth's name. She missed the next couple of words, and by the time she had focused her hearing again the woman was speaking.

'...be quick, then. I cannot stay away from long or he'll wonder where I am. Is everything going according to plan?' The voice sounded strangely familiar, but Sarah couldn't place it.

'Yes,' Kaneron answered. 'The girl is safely locked away. And what of your end of the bargain? I know of your betrothal, of course; I was so _very _disappointed not to able to attend the ball in its honour. But you had better be doing more than dancing in the moonlight.'

'Stop worrying so much,' the woman replied. 'Everything is under control. As long as Jareth doesn't realize what's going on, there will be no problems. I get my crown, you get your treaty, and we all come out on top. I've gone through all of the records, and there won't be any diplomatic issues.'

'What worries me is that Jareth _will_ realize what's going on,' Kaneron said. Sarah pressed herself to the door, desperate to catch every word. It sounded like Jareth was in trouble.

Who was this woman? Where had Sarah hear that voice before? And then she suddenly remembered—

'_I mean no offence, Sarah...but you're a human commoner. Jareth is an immortal king of indescribable power. There can never be any real bond between you. He is just using you.'_

'_Please don't be insulted when I say that you are very young and inexperienced. Perhaps before you make your decision you should know of all of the other pretty human girls Jareth has lured here.'_

'_Every month or so dear Jareth has a new pet. He never keeps them long—just until they give in to his advances. Eventually he will find a woman worthy of being his queen, but until then he must resort to more—if I may say—_crude_ ways of satisfying his lust.' _

Cliodna. The Unseelie Queen who had tried to get between her and Jareth. Sarah had to grit her teeth together and glare at the floor to get control of herself. Unfortunately, the slew of memories had distracted her, and she had missed a good portion of the conversation.

'It's the only way I can think of to make sure Jareth and his friends and advisors are too distracted to see what you're doing,' Kanerong was saying. 'It will only be temporary; there won't be time to do any real damage to the Goblin Kingdom.'

'Very well,' Cliodna agreed reluctantly. 'I suppose there are few things more distracting to a King than a war. Just remember one thing: Jareth is not to be harmed.'

'Why not?' Kaneron asked. 'Please tell me you don't actually love him.'

There was a long moment of silence.

'Just uphold your end of the deal, Kaneron,' Cliodna said icily. 'Wage your war, if you really think it is necessary, but it will last only until the wedding. Once Jareth and I are bound together, there will be no more need for distractions.'

Sarah pushed herself away from the door, her head spinning. The whole conversation was suddenly starting to make sense.

Jareth was going to marry Cliodna. That was why _her_ bond with him had been severed—he had bound himself to someone else.

_Eventually he will find a woman worthy of being his queen, but until then he must resort to more—if I may say—_crude_ ways of satisfying his lust._

Sarah all but ran down the hall. She had heard enough.

The moment she had disappeared, Jareth had found someone to replace her. Someone more worthy. Cliodna must have been the one who had kidnapped her, to keep her out of the way. The Queen was using Jareth, manipulating him for personal gain. But Jareth was too blinded by love to see that.

Sarah stopped short and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She really didn't care. Whatever feelings she might once have had for Jareth had long since evaporated. She was free.

When she opened her eyes and looked around, Sarah saw that her feet had carried her back to the first room she had broken into. It made sense—it was the pathway back to her own room, which was the closest thing she had to safety. She wasn't really safe here, though, she was never really safe. If she wanted to save herself, what she had to do was go back down to the ground floor and make a run for it. She had broken _into_ a Faerie castle when she was only fifteen; how hard could it be to break out of one? She would walk away and never look back, never think about Jareth again.

He deserved whatever he had coming. The war, the mysterious treaty Cliodna had mentioned, an eternal bond to a woman who was using him—it served him right, Sarah thought as she entered the room to look out at the grounds, planning her escape. Whatever Cliodna had planned, it was his own damn fault.

No. She couldn't let herself think that way; couldn't let her anger and jealousy control her. Jareth was in trouble, and she was the only one who knew about it. The only one who could help him. And helping the people she cared about was what Sarah did. She hadn't abandoned Toby no matter how many odds were stacked against her. She hadn't abandoned Hoggle even after he betrayed her. She wasn't going to sink to Jareth's level.

Just because he had abandoned her didn't mean that she would abandon him. She would find a way to stop this war from happening, or at least to make sure he won. She would make sure he knew what Cliodna and Kaneron were planning. And then, if he still loved Cliodna, let him do what he pleased; she was done.

Sarah climbed back up onto the windowsill, grasped the makeshift rope she had made earlier that day and stepped out into the cold spring air.

She wasn't afraid of falling anymore.


End file.
